


Sides of my Mind

by VickyFaye



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dark, Gen, Moral rambles, Open to Interpretation, Rants, philosophical rambles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyFaye/pseuds/VickyFaye
Summary: This will be a work I'll update occasionally after contemplating some vague or subjective concept and work it into a story with rants from yours truly included.Some of these might or might not be based off of real experiences, and they won't always have a happy ending.





	Sides of my Mind

**Author's Note:**

> So as written in the summary, this is just a place for me to work thoughts and experiences into some form of storytelling both to just express myself and to share thoughts.  
> Obviously, none of the (personal) info that might be given is real, and I will avoid giving away too much about the real situation.  
> If you disagree with anything and/or wish to try to convince me otherwise, feel free to comment! :)
> 
> This first one is about... selfishness, I guess?

## "No, you don't"

* * *

#### Rant:

We live in a bizarre world. With all that's going on right now, I'm sure that's not a surprising statement. What might be more surprising, however, is how our world is somehow both incredibly focused on sociality and compassion, and yet it feels like it's never been more self-centred at the same time.

Most of us go out into the world in hopes of being treated fairly--and as a result, believe that we treat others fairly as well--and I don't think media has ever been more focused on social inclusion than now. These topics have overtaken even the novel virus spreading around in how much it's talked about, in my experience, and yet it feels like our every move is somehow related to and focused on our own benefits rather than pure kindness and compassion.

Because are people going out to protest because they care about the actual victims, or is it because they themselves wouldn't want to end up in that situation? Do we ever take action that doesn't benefit us in some obscure, perhaps minuscule way?

Now, I'm not in any way trying to belittle anyone. I support peaceful protesters and I sympathise with rioters, and not in the least do I think this affects the purpose--or honesty--of any of it.

But I do wonder.

I'm sure most of us had to deal with someone calling us "selfish" at some point in our lives. I know I have been, and I can't deny that at least some of it was justifiable, though I didn't believe so at the time. But what makes "selfishness" such a difficult concept for me to understand is that it seems to be used so broadly, not to mention how subjective it is.

According to the [online Cambridge dictionary](https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/selfishness), "selfishness" is a disapproving noun meaning:

> "The quality of thinking only of your own advantage."

That's broad, and words like "only" never help with that. Because what does "only" mean? Is it only ever? Or only in this specific situation? Does unexpressed consideration invalidate anyone calling an action selfish?

And here's a phrase to throw into the mix that probably convolutes things even worse, that I'll bet you've heard at least once in your life: "You use 'I' too often."

Is it selfish to use the simple and common pronoun 'I' often? Even though that seems to be a common speech pattern in English? _ **I**_ feel like that's just unfair. Is it selfish to not express consideration for others, even if you _have_ , in fact, considered others' well-being? Is it selfish to put your own needs and wants above those of others? And perhaps more importantly, is that _bad_?

Even better: who gets to decide whether someone is selfish or not? Unprompted by outsiders, an individual will rarely look back at their actions and conclude them to be selfish, but what makes those outsiders qualified to judge? They can't see inside the mind of the individual, let alone understand it in its entirety, and a mislabelled accusation of selfishness could end up haunting said individual for a long time to come.

I don't know if this is just me, but I feel like I have been so indoctrinated with the notion that doing things out of self-service is always bad that I end up questioning my every move.

"Would it be selfish if I did this?" I think, but also, "Could this be perceived as being selfish?"

I almost search for reasons why even kind things could be seen as selfish, and it scares me off from doing it. That's not to say that I'm never acting selfishly, in fact, I strongly believe that this behaviour might just be another way of me to express my selfishness (Notice how I'm using variations of 'I' so much?). Because if I were to vacuum the house in place of my mother, would I be doing that to make her happy or to give her a more favorable impression of me? And so I end up not doing anything at all, and as a result fail to express my love for the woman who literally went through hours of physical pain and years of mental exhaustion for me properly. It doesn't help that I'm a procrastinator on top of that, either.

Today, however, I started wondering. Is prioritizing yourself, or doing things out of self-service, truly that bad? Obviously, you need to consider the effects your actions have on others before making a decision, and you can't just carelessly do whatever you want, but is there something beyond that that makes your actions selfish?

Does an act of kindness become less kind just because someone had more motives than just to make someone happy? Does it make the person on the receiving end somehow less fortunate to receive said kindness?

You can't just be a pushover, so obviously you need some amount of self-worth to get by, so is it bad if someone, to some degree, prioritizes their own interest over that of others? Personally, I don't think so.

Then again, doesn't that just sound like something a selfish person would say to justify their thoughts?

* * *

#### Story:

I woke up today as usual: Way too late, with no time to either have proper breakfast or revise properly one last time for my test today, even though I _specifically_ set my alarm two hours before I had to leave to be able to do just that. It's not like I had slept through the damn thing either, oh no, I'd heard it, turned it off, and went to bed again. Because apparently my rationale could never win against my desire to sleep. Luckily, my mother had promised to drive me to school today, though I'd have to go home by bus afterward, so sleep I got.

Departing at 8.15am, I first awoke at 7.20, then began to wake myself up properly by reading some manga on my iPad for the next twenty to twenty-five minutes, letting the instructional videos meant to practice for the test play at 2x speed in the background. The test wasn't anything big, anyway. Honestly, I would never have guessed how this day was to end, considering how mundanely it started.

Once I felt sufficiently awake mentally, I rose from my bed, proceeding to my bathroom with a quick "good morning" through the house to wherever my mother was, already awake because unlike me she knows how to not procrastinate, and began brushing my teeth, still listening to the instructional videos. I finished that, then went to wash my face. The cool water felt nice against my skin, and it served to help wake me up even further. Somehow, this simple process took me a whole fifteen minutes, and I quickly realised breakfast and revisal weren't the only things I was gonna be unable to do, so I quickly packed my bag and threw on a dress before calling out to my mother: "Shall we head off, then?"

Unlike normally, my mom seemed to realise today that I was revising even as we sat in the car, because she didn't speak to me, and in a way I was grateful for it. It should've been my first sign, thinking back now. My mom loves talking with me.

Regardless, we arrived at school, and my stress levels finally began to elevate as I exited the car, thanking her for the ride and wishing her a good day while I was gone, and I headed into the test without an inkling of suspicion.

Nothing significant happened at school, and afterward I headed back home by bus as previously agreed. It took me about an hour to arrive at home, and I had plans to work on a project with some others in another hour, so I was both kinda surprised and relieved to discover that the doors were all locked, and since I called my mom to ask her to let me in, I discovered that there had been a good chance she wouldn't have been home at that time anymore, since she'd intended to head to the beach nearby, but had been delayed by an unexpected visit. She claimed she'd spoken to me about it, but I couldn't remember. Again, I carelessly shrugged it off. My mom had still been home, and I'd gotten inside, so it was fine, right?

There was a part of me at this point that wanted to join her, partially because I felt bad about letting her go alone, but I understood very well that I couldn't: I had prior engagements after all. My mom stayed home for a little while longer, charging her AirPods, and at some point I came upstairs intending to show her a funny clip I'd found.

"Hey mom! Wanna have a laugh?"

"Not really." She sighed. I thought she was sarcastic.

"Aww," I pouted, trying to hide the smile threatening to show itself, "I wanted to show you something funny... Are you sure?" I asked, waving my phone with the clip on it slightly.

"I really don't feel like it, Sara."

My stomach dropped. This didn't sound like a joke. My mother was in a bad mood. I hadn't expected it, and this was one of those moments where I could only wish I was as witty as those characters in manga with a response to literally anything, but I wasn't, and so for a moment I froze in silence.

"...What's wrong?"

"Those stupid vacations are!" She responded in a mix of sadness and anger. My mom, you see, really badly wanted to leave the country for summer vacation, but I and my dad had opposed it because although it was possible, with the novel virus still out there, we found it too risky. It didn't stop my mother though.

I would later find out that the specific reason she had become so upset was because the duration of the ride, which she'd planned by car, was too long for her to handle on her own, and at that point in time she had no one to join her on the trip.

I went silent again. I felt conflicted. A part of me really, **really** badly wanted to encourage her to not give up, to look for alternatives. The other part... well... let's just say the possibility of her not leaving the country on her own after all was somewhat of a relief.

At a loss of what to do, I hugged her from behind, looking at the screen before her, and said: "I love you."

I'd hoped it would reassure her somehow.

"No you don't."

The blow was hard. And low. And I was once again at a loss. I don't think I had time to process what my mother had responded with, because the overwhelming emotions came only after she'd already left for the beach. At the moment though, the only thing I felt was shock. Somewhat desperately, I changed the subject.

"Weren't you planning to go to the beach?"

"I am, but the AirPods aren't charged yet."

I took them off the charger, and the light became green.

"Technically, the light turns red at 30%, and it can last quite a while longer on that much, so it should be fine?"

I put it back on the charger, and with no response, I quietly made my way out of the room again.

 _"No you don't._ _"_ \--the words kept repeating in the back of my head even as she left, and as I began my FaceTime call with my project partners.

I was somewhat relieved when the call finally ended at around quarter to one in the afternoon. I didn't have to act all composed anymore. And so I dreaded my singing lesson where, too, I'd have to somehow hold back the thoughts that were getting stronger and stronger by the second.

Did I not express my love enough? Was I not good enough? Did I do something wrong?

Of course, I understood perfectly well that these were probably words simply spoken out of her bad mood, and I clung to that theory desperately to try and console myself. It didn't stop anything though. Was I a bad daughter? Didn't I love her? What if those weren't words spoken irrationally? What if she meant them?

The more I thought about it, the more my stomach sank, and when my mom returned I strongly wished for her mood to have brightened at least a bit. A futile hope.

"Mom! Welcome back!" I exclaimed, trying to sound as excited as possible.

"Yes, I'm back."

The tone of her voice told me enough, but I refused to accept it. I wasn't gonna cheer her up by acting as depressed as my mother was. I knew that. So I pushed through, admittedly with little tact about it.

"Are you feeling better?"

"No. Sara, you'd better stay away from me today unless you want me to snap."

She'd snapped before, and it was never pretty. Still...

"... I was asked to come to work today. I refused, I thought I could spend some time with you today." -- _I thought I could help cheer you up, or at least distract you somehow that way._

"Did you ever think about whether I wanted to spend time with you? What were you even planning to do?"

These were both very valid questions. They were also ones I hadn't even considered. Completely thrown off, I managed to muster up enough energy to respond, though in a whisper, with the first thing I could think of:

"I thought maybe we could play some piano..."

Stupid! Idiot! Moron! --There are no words to describe how utterly lacking in empathy, in _intelligence_ , I was. Piano?! Really?! My mom had been frustrated by her playing recently since she got stuck while practicing a piece, and I decide to go with that?!

She frowned.

"You should've chosen to work."

I wasn't sure how much more I could take. Her words _were_ hurting me. They _were_ affecting me, and as much as I liked to act, I wasn't sure how long I could keep that up.

"Welp, I didn't." I said with a shrug, trying to sound as light as possible, and the conversation ended there.

My mom went upstairs, and I stayed behind below.

I'd failed. In fact, I think I made it worse.

'Sometimes trying to fix things only breaks them further', huh?

Day turned into evening, and with evening came dinnertime. We ate in relative peace and decent amount of conversation. Whether my mom's mood had improved or not I couldn't tell, but this time I made sure to avoid sensitive subjects, and she seemed to be willing to put her sour mood aside for a bit, as well.

After dinner, I must admit I was scared to mess up again, and I wasn't willing to take the risk, so instead I was going to go to my room.

This idiot me, however, couldn't have just quietly gone upstairs. I just _had_ to say something with that big mouth of mine.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me. Love you."

I don't normally get a response, and when I do it's usually a simple 'okay'. This time was different though (of course it was).

"Don't throw those words around like that."

I froze on the first step of the stairs, turning to my mother with a frown and slight confusion.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You don't love me, Sara."

I didn't understand where this was coming from. I gulped in discomfort.

"... Why?"

"You don't love me, because if you did, you'd do more for me of your own accord. You'd _show_ me that you do, instead of just saying the words." --I thought of the recent times when I had offered to help her figure out how to fix a problem in Excel, which she had adamantly refused until I actually fixed it, or all the hours I had spent thinking of and saving for and picking gifts out for her because I wanted to show sincerity. Were those not expressions of love? It felt... unfair. But maybe she was right. I said nothing.

My mother continued: "I know you don't love me, and that's fine. It's the selfishness that all children have, and you don't even realise it. You don't know what love _is_ , Sara, or you wouldn't question me when I ask you for favors, and you'd do them on time. You'll learn what love is one day, when you find someone you want to do favors for without question. For now, though: You don't love me."

...

...

...

I didn't know what to say to that.

She was right, I did question why she wanted me to do certain stuff, and I do question why we do certain stuff so often, or why it matters. And I express that. And I do procrastinate until it's too late to actually do what she asked of me.

I couldn't refute any of that.

So did I... not love her?

What was that feeling of happiness when seeing her again after spending a weekend at my dad's, then?

The worry I felt for her every time she went off with her friends on some adventure--in or out of the country?

The hope that I could help her and support her dealing with her dark and heavy past, even if all I could do was just stand on her side, telling her that she's doing the right thing, that everything would be fine?

Was that not love?

She'd said it in such a matter-of-fact tone as well.

It hit hard.

I wanted to cry.

I might've, after I returned to my room. I don't remember.

_Was it not love?_

I couldn't let myself believe that. Even if she was right. I was stubborn like that.

Biting through the feelings of pain and unfairness and conflict, I spoke:

"Still, I do love you."

I spoke with a weak smile on my face, or at least I tried to. I don't know what it looked like in reality.

Not able to hold back what I was feeling any longer I turned away from my mother, about to rush up the stairs as I heard my mother respond.

"No you don't."

The conversation was never mentioned again.


End file.
